Impossible says I'm possible
by TheRaggedyWriter
Summary: The Raggedy Man and The Impossible Girl learn that the impossible might very well be possible after all. Because Clara might be pregnant. And she is very not okay. Lots of Whouffle, with some cute and sad moments :) Please review!
1. Chapter 1

The Doctor fumbled with a regular screwdriver, poking at random spots on a coffee pot. "You're so dull and un-sonic-y." He whined.

Normally, he'd be using his sonic screwdriver, but Clara had asked to borrow it earlier, so he was left with the regular bits. Come to think of it, it had only been a few minutes after she had asked for his sonic screwdriver that Clara had asked him to fix the coffee pot. _She probably did it just for sport! _He thought indolently, shoving the coffee pot onto the counter and spinning on his heel.

"Clara!" He shouted, tripping over himself as he marched towards their bedroom, where Clara was most likely napping. (She had been rather ill recently, you see, so he'd been trying to be extra nice and helpful.)

"Clara!" He shouted again. "Did you take my sonic just beca-" The Doctor halted in his tracks, (in his usual ungainly manner) at the sight of Clara curled up in the squishy chair on the far side of the room.

It wasn't particularly odd to see her like that, it was her favorite chair after all, but this time was different. She was curled up in an agonizing way, obviously extremely upset, and maybe even in pain. She was clutching something small and white in her hand, but didn't seem to be particularly taken with it as she was staring into oblivion. She was even paler than usual, (The sickness was a draining one, you see.) and her normally soft and smooth hair clung to her face and neck with sweat.

"Clara?" He said, this time softer, more of a question. "Clara, darling, what's the matter?"

But Clara didn't move, her eyes didn't even flit.

The Doctor took a few steps toward her, his arms bouncing awkwardly at his side. Clara was normally exceedingly perceptive. Especially with her emotions. She would do anything, fake a smile or a laugh, lock herself in the bathroom, change the subject, to keep herself from having to reveal an emotion she wasn't completely prepared to share. But when she was ready to share she opened up easily, albeit carefully.

But she didn't seem ready to share anything. _At all._

In fact, even though The Doctor and Clara were as close and as in love as a couple could be, he felt as if he were intruding on something very private.

_Nonsense! This was my room long before she moved in! _He thought, staring at shoes. But when he looked back up, a pang of fear hit harder than ever, and he walked quickly over to Clara, worry tearing at his hearts.

"Clara, please, are you alright?" He asked softly, sliding in next to her on the squishy chair and wrapping his arm around her in the most comforting manner he could muster.

Clara jumped at his touch, her complexion becoming even more pallid as she turned and looked at him.

And for the first time in awhile, The Doctor saw Clara's eyes were red and swollen, and were once again filling with tears.

"Oh, Doctor.." She moaned, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his chest.

He half expected her to burst into sobs, but she stayed silent, even though he could feel his shirt becoming damp. He rubbed her back soothingly for a while, finally finishing in an awkward pat. He wasn't sure exactly if he was supposed to say something, but all he could really think about is he was really _very _worried.

About his Clara. His impossible girl.


	2. Chapter 2

Clara only clung to him though. She did nothing to appease his worry. Not a word made it out of her mouth, nor did she even move.

"Clara, I know you're upset, but.." The Doctor paused, searching for the right words. "But I'm becoming really extremely and superbly worried about you and I would hate to get grumpy because you do know when you're sad I get kind of sort of maybe a bit grumpy?" The Doctor blurted rapid-fire. He may be really horrid at sharing his feelings, but he seemed to be getting better. With a _little _help from Clara.

A muffled giggle sounded from the slender form he held in his arms, and Clara leaned her head back, her usual impish grin only half-smiled. "You're absolutely daft, you know." She laughed, her voice somewhat shaky and coarse.

"Hey! I'm quite clever, thank you very much!" The Doctor laughed half-heartedly. He smiled back at her thinly, still worried. "But you didn't answer my question."

Clara's smile was still pained, not forced, but not normal. "Yes, well.." She murmured as her smile fell, curling closer to The Doctor's chest as she tucked her feet up. "That's because I'm.. I'm not entirely sure what to say..." She paused, sniffing, and The Doctor took the chance to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. Choosing a respectful silence rather than a repeat of his question.

Clara smiled again, the same broken expression alighting on her face. "I'm not sad though, like you said I was in your little rant. I'm honestly not. Just… Dazed? Confused? Having ambivalent attitudes? Oh, I don't know.." Clara rubbed her eyes with one of her hands, looking very lost.

She was so beautiful to him. Clara. His Clara. And as he looked into her eyes, emerald meeting chocolate, worry meeting fear, confusion, and utter helplessness, he couldn't help himself. He traced his finger down her jaw-line gently, then cupped her face in both his hands softly. "Clara Oswald." He whispered. "I love you." Then he pressed his lips against hers in a tender, soft, and passionate move, and she kissed him back with just as much emotion.

They broke apart a few seconds later, Clara with eyes closed, a slight smile gracing her face. But The Doctor's eyes were open. He was taking in every bit of this scenario, of Clara. Trying to puzzle it out. But he was left just as clueless as he always is when it comes to situations like these. Finally, when he thought he might burst, he blurted out his question again. "Clara really, what's the matter?"

Clara peeked one eye open. "Now wouldn't you like to know?" She teased, but then a panicked look came upon her face, and she turned a pale shade of green. In one quick bound, she stumbled off the chair and dashed to the bathroom clumsily, slamming the door behind her.

The Doctor had been right behind her, ready to help her in however she needed it. Even if that meant holding her hair back while she wretched, which he honestly didn't mind too badly. (That's just part of what a good boyfriend does, isn't it?) But when she slammed the door, he was left helpless.

_No. _He thought. _Not helpless. Just helping in a different way. Maybe she wants to be alone. Maybe I can do something for her out here…_ The Doctor glanced around, eager to find something funny to cheer Clara up. When as he was looking, he noticed a bizarrely shaped white object sitting on the floor a few feet away from Clara's chair. _Oh, she was holding that when I came in_. He recalled, walking towards it. _It's probably rather important, I'll just…._ As he picked it up, and examined it, his mind went blank. Utterly and completely blank of any (intelligent) thoughts at all.

He might act like an overgrown eleven year-old sometimes. (Okay a lot of the times..) But he knew what this was. He was really a very wise old man, and he knew that this little piece of plastic was exactly why Clara had been so emotionally distraught. The two little blue lines seemed to stare up at him, and he made his way hollowly to the bathroom door.

"C-clara," He called in, his voice breaking. "Are you pregnant?"


	3. Chapter 3

Clara didn't respond to his question for awhile. The Doctor hadn't expected her to, as she was feeling rather badly at the moment. Besides, he already knew the answer to that question. The amazingly clear little plus-sign on the pregnancy test Clara had accidently dropped in her dash to the bathroom told him so.

But he needed to hear it from her.

Not for his own sake, though. Nah, he hadn't even properly processed it yet, that part would hit later. But he needed to know what she was thinking. What she wanted to do, and where she wanted to go from here.

But his thoughts were interrupted as the door snapped open, and The Doctor caught himself in his usual clumsy manner.

Clara poked her head out, her brown bangs falling in her face. She opened her mouth as if she were going to say something, but then snapped it shut quickly. She kept her gaze on the ground, biting her lip nervously. Then she shook her head, and looked up at The Doctor, smiling a muted version of her usual mischievous grin.

Of course, The Doctor might be rubbish at most feelings-y things, but he knew his Clara. He could tell how the smile was a mask over uncertainty and pain. _But mostly uncertainty._ He noted with relief as he looked into her eyes.

Sharing eye contact with The Doctor seemed to break Clara's mask some, and quickly resumed her focus on the ground. But she must've thought The Doctor couldn't tell, because she kept her voice as light and flirty as it usually is. "What makes you ask that, Doctor?"

"Ah, well you see I.. Er, you…" He sputtered, pulling at his collar nervously as he held the pregnancy test behind his back. "I just thought that… Maybe.. I don't know…"

"Or that maybe you found the pregnancy test?" Clara said, glancing over at the squishy chair. She looked up at him, her face still a pale shade of green, but her expression determined (and maybe a little bit annoyed.). "I'm not stupid, Doctor. And neither are you. This'll be a thousand times easier if we're just plain honest with each other, yeah?"

The Doctor nodded hastily. "Right, yeah! Of course it will be. I'll be… Yeah…" He paused, and let his hands fall to his sides. Might as well show the pregnancy test now. "But are you… I mean," He paused again, and leaned forward, so his face was only inches from hers. "Are you alright, Clara?"

Clara shrugged, still smiling mutedly. "Well, of course I am! I'm Clara Oswald, the Impossible Girl! Nothing can keep me down. You know that well enough, eh Chin?" She bopped his chin lightly with her thumb, and backed away a bit, so their faces weren't so close.

The Doctor blushed, though he wasn't really sure why. He shook the slightly woozy feeling from his head, then put his hand up against the bathroom door. _No time for flirting_. He chided himself. _This is serious business!_ With that, he cleared his throat, and began to speak. "Right, well then Clara." He pushed the door open, and Clara seemed a bit surprised at his boldness. He took one of her hands in his, and led her quietly out of the bathroom. "You," He began, sitting her down in the squishy chair and pulling up another for himself. "Are going to me why you're lying, and exactly what is wrong."

"Nothing, nothing is the matter!" Clara said, smiling all the while. It would've been convincing, except that The Doctor knew better, and he looked at her eyes, and saw the truth.

He scooted his chair a bit closer to hers, and leaned over a bit more. "Clara…" He pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear. "Don't play games with me. Don't you **ever** play games with me."

Clara quickly ducked her head, but she couldn't muffle her strangled sob.

The Doctor slipped into the chair next to her, and wrapped his arms around her as he stroked her back softly. His mind was still racing a bit too fast to say much of anything, so he chose to stay silent.

"Doctor," Clara said softly, her voice breaking. "I'm just.. So confused, and.. And scared."

The Doctor kissed the top of her head, and pulled her closer. "I know, Clara, I know.. But we'll…. We'll be fine." He paused, smiling a little bit. "In fact, we'll be a little better than fine. We'll be a family."


End file.
